Out.Fest | June 03, 2021
Few words. In fact, they are not accurate.
In the Amphitheater Paz & Amizade there is a cool breeze while Susana Santos Silva enters the scene and speaks a few words to us. In fact, they are not accurate. “It’s been a long time since we’ve played with an audience like this.” I look around and there are many faces covered with masks. Many. That’s the most important. We carefully define. With distance and mask on. And culture takes place in that amphitheater. With so much time away from these wanderings, I feel that I have unlearned how to focus on a live concert, without headphones, without a screen, without thinking about going there just to do the laundry or take care of dinner.
I haven’t seen a concert in a long time. It’s been a long time since I’ve written on the spur of the moment. The quintet’s last album, released by Porta-Jazz, was halfway there for expectations to be high.
Trumpet, saxophone, drums, bass and keys.
And Susana. I follow its path and the leap and evolution are enormous. Respect.
Next thing I know, we’re already in applause and ready to enter the second theme. I enter a bohemian and decadent bar. A late spring afternoon with a very cool breeze. The sound guides me. One person on each side. I exchange glances with some of those around me. A unison sound that enters my ears. The electric bass that, so well, destabilizes the moment. The battery that keeps silent. The helicopter that decides to pass and become the sixth element for a brief moment and merges with the keyboards.
I find myself in the middle of a movie like Black Cat, White Cat, by Kusturica, or Ugly, Pigs and Bad, by Ettore Scola. At this point in the concert, Torbjörn Zetterberg becomes the center of the film.
I continue this journey and I don’t realize how many themes have passed. A heavier mesh begins, a somber environment. I get lost in time again. I continue to travel.
Final applause. When concerts are good you lose track of time. For those who didn’t go, here’s a tip: the Impermanence records will also make you travel.
Rafael Toral Space Quartet
It got dark and I entered the Auditorium. Some time ago, more precisely in 2019, I wrote a review of one of Rafael Toral’s records. I admire him, I respect him and I am fascinated by what he develops.
Auditorium, mask and smoke machine: it’s all a matter of habit (I’ll work on getting used to it).
I think this is the first time I’ve seen Nuno Torres live (I should be ashamed to admit this), Nuno Morão delights me on drums and the one who ends up surprising me throughout the concert is Hugo Antunes (doublebass). Perhaps because he feels that everyone is contained except for him. Maybe because I didn’t expect this record from Hugo. I too have preconceived ideas (who knew).
Rafael Toral’s presence is unmistakable. His set of material, the way he moves on stage, his expressions. I miss a moment of madness, of total liberation, of explosion. Why? I don’t know. I just hope that moment happens. The concert grows, its dynamics intensify, but it does not explode. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I consider it to be a need of mine after being confined for so long ─ to burst.
Rafael has the ability to take us to other universes and Nuno Torres is pioneering small paths where, together, they complement each other.
It ended quickly, like all good things.